


Night Rocket

by xwordswithme



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:19:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xwordswithme/pseuds/xwordswithme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the events that took place in the third episode ('Rocket') of the first season of Endeavor and what happened the night Alice spent with Morse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Rocket

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction ever, so please be kind. I am human. I make mistakes. And I like kudos.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything, so you know the rest.

“I didn’t come to talk about the Brooms,” Alice said. 

She took a sip of the scotch Morse had just poured her, meeting his eyes. They were the eyes that had haunted her the past seven years and right now they were the color of a stormy sea. She would willingly watch the tide roll in and out again in those eyes. 

Morse recapped the bottle of scotch. “Alice—”

“Shut up, Morse,” she said and set her glass down, closing the short distance between them. Her hands came up to his shoulders and she pressed her lips to his, closing her eyes.

Morse didn’t move. Beneath her palms she felt him tense, but he didn’t push her away, he just stood there.  
She pulled back. Morse’ eyes fluttered, but he didn’t look up. 

Now she’d done it. She’d done everything she could to make Endeavour Morse see her as a woman and he wouldn’t even look at her. “I’m—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I should—” She twisted away from to pick up her so she could leave. If she did so fast enough maybe she could forget any of this ever happened. 

“Alice, wait—” Morse’ hand flew out to grab her arm.

“No—it’s all right—I know, I’m not her—”

“Stop,” he said. 

Something in his voice made her quit trying to get away. He spoke softly, his tone a low murmur, but behind the word she sensed steel. 

His hand circled her arm. With a gentle, but insistent, tug he got her to turn and face him. When she refused to look him in the eye, he let go of her arm and took hold of her chin to tip her face up to his. 

Her eyes burned and she blinked furiously, refusing to let one tear fall. She didn’t want to look up, afraid of what she would see in his face, but Morse wouldn’t turn loose. She took a steadying breath and finally glanced up. 

Instead of finding pity, which is what she expected, she saw a good deal of surprise written across his features, and more than a bit of caution. But she also saw heat in the piercing blue depths of his eyes, banked flames she wanted to fan into a raging fire. She might not have believed it if she wasn’t seeing it for herself, but she knew Morse was terrible at dissembling. He might be all corners when it came to social situations, but he could never hide what he was feeling. It was one of the reasons she fell for him in the first place.

Morse released her chin and slid his palm up to press lightly against her cheek. His gaze dropped to her mouth and his thumb traced the curve of her bottom lip.  
Alice closed her eyes and opened her mouth to suck in a breath and that was all the invitation he needed.

His lips came crashing down on hers as the hand that held her cheek snaked around to the nape of her neck. His other arm came around her waist to bring her flush against him. Alice moaned at the contact and Morse angled his head to take advantage of the sound. His mouth coaxed her lips apart. His tongue slipped inside to dual with hers. She tasted the scotch he’d been drinking and him mixed with the alcohol, a tangy flavor that went to her head faster than the drink alone. 

It was a good thing he held her, because her knees went week, sending them tumbling back against the bookcase hard enough to jostle the record player. It started up, playing whatever piece it was Morse had been listening to before she arrived.

Morse broke the kiss. Alice took the opportunity to take in some much needed oxygen and was pleases to see Morse’ chest rising and falling as rapidly as her own. She watched as he reached around her to turn up the volume. He smiled, just a small curve of his lips, his eyes bright. She liked to think she was a little bit responsible for the change, and not just the music. 

Her hands went to the top button of his shirt and started freeing them one by one. Morse’ smile faded, but the fire in his eyes burned brighter. She didn’t look away until after she pushed the shirt down and off his arms and lifted his undershirt by the hem, up and off of his bare torso.  
He was whipcord thin, but fit. She dropped a hand on his shoulder, letting her fingertips slide down across his chest, brushing across one nipple and then the other. It was warm in his flat, but they beaded all the same, tighter perhaps than hers were at the moment. Her hand moved back across the top of his abdomen to his side and Morse jumped as if electrocuted.

He grabbed her hand and her gaze snapped up to his. 

“What—” Alice began, concern etched across her brow.

“Tickles,” Morse said and swallowed.

Alice’s eyes lit up and she smiled. Before Morse could stop her, she was attacking his sides with abandon.  
Morse gasped and squirmed trying to get away from her too quick fingers, but her wrists kept slipping through his hands. Finally, he gathered her up close to him, effectively trapping her roaming hands between them.

She stopped, caught up his gaze.

“Take this off,” Morse said after a minute. He reached up a hand and flicked the scarf she wore around her neck.

Alice gazed up at him and smiled. He eased far enough away from her to free one of her hands.

She unknotted the scarf and pulled it from her neck at the same time Morse dropped his hands to her sides and grabbed the hem of her blouse. He pulled it up and over her head in one smooth motion revealing the top half of the slip she wore beneath it. He tossed the shirt aside before his sinewy arms came around her. Heat rolled of him in waves. He unzipped her skirt so slowly she imagined she could hear individual teeth parting. Then he settled his hands around the top of the skirt at her waist before he let go. The piece of fabric pooled at her feet with a whoosh. 

Alice’s stepped out of her skirt and shoes at the same time. Morse still held her about the waist. His hands warmed the silken material of her slip and that warmth spread to her body making her entire being flush. Her heart raced. She reached for Morse’ belt. He stilled for a moment and she was afraid he would pull away and put a stop to it all, but then he stepped out of his shoes and took care of his socks at the same time. When he stood up again, she undid his belt and opened his pants, pushing them down to reveal the white boxers he wore underneath. Her fingers skirted the waistband of his boxers, teasing.

She heard Morse growl in the back of his throat and let out a squeal of surprise when her feet left the floor and Morse picked her up to spin her around so the backs of her legs grazed the bed. It really was a rather small room. She felt a giggle bubbling up and let it out because the rise and fall of the music covered the noise as well as any other sound they might make.

He held her aloft, studying her face. She hovered above the floor staring into his and her smile faded as he lowered her, inch by agonizing inch, her body sliding against his. She could feel that part of him that wanted her most ardently and her womb tingled and tightened at the thought of him inside of her. Moisture pooled and collected at the tops of her thighs and she wondered if he could feel the heat through the layers of clothing that still separated them.

Morse set her on her feet. He swallowed and opened his mouth, but closed it again without speaking. His eyes burned bright. She could see he wanted to say something.

“Alice—”

She stopped his lips with her own. She knew his struggle. He couldn’t give her everything she wanted and he didn’t know how to tell her. She knew it already, knew it before she knocked on his door. He couldn’t love her like she wanted, but that was all right. Maybe he could love her a little. A little would be enough for tonight.

He didn’t respond at first, but she started to thaw his reserve with the continued friction of her lips against his. When he started to react she broke the kiss and leaned down to press her lips against his collar bone. She looked up at him through her lashes. She could still see he wasn’t sure about what was about to happen, but she also saw the lust seeping into his gaze. She barred her teeth and nipped at the thin skin covering the clavicle. She didn’t want to hurt him, well, maybe just a little bit, but she didn’t want to draw blood.

She heard him suck in a breath. Then his hands were in her hair, pulling it back to raise her face and meet his with a kiss that left her grateful for the bed behind should she need a soft place to land. Morse didn’t just kiss, he devoured, he plundered, and then let himself be raided in return.

Her hands were roaming his back and backside, when she felt his fingertips graze her shoulders, drawing both straps of her slip down her arms. The silky stuff caught on her hardened nipples. Morse did what he did best and investigated the situation, trailing a line of kisses down her throat, pressing his tongue into all of the dips and hollows he found along the way. When he arrived at the scene he sucked each nipple into his mouth, material and all, lubricating each aroused bud before taking the offending fabric between his teeth and liberating each full breast. 

Alice filled the air with tiny gasps while he worked. Her hands trailed up his chest and then came to rest on his shoulders as he sunk farther down. When she felt him push her slip up her thighs, she sunk her fingers into his hair. It was softer than she expected and she ran her fingers through the short waves. He continued to raise the bottom edge of her slip, higher and higher. When it skimmed the top of her thighs, she watched his eyes widen and couldn’t hide a smirk. She hadn’t worn underwear for this very reason. 

Then he ran his hands up and down her thighs, front and back, and her smirk fled. Morse reached up and took a firm hold of her buttocks in either hand. She could feel each, individual fingertip press into her flesh as he hefted the weight of each cheek, before pulling them apart, spreading, massaging. Her breath caught in her throat and she looked down, past her free floating breasts and the ruched up fabric of her slip to take in the turbulent blue of Morse’ eyes. They practically glowed.

His nostrils flared. She threw her head back, her breath stuttering in and out, wondering if he could smell her arousal and what he made of the scent. His hands left her buttocks to slip down and around to the front of her legs. He pressed on the inside of her thighs, gently just above the knees.

Alice frowned, but she stepped her feet wider. He pressed more firmly and she fell back onto the bed her legs spread wide. She risked a glance down and her heart slammed against her rib cage because Morse’ laser-like focus centered solely on her sex. She felt his look like a physical touch and experienced a rush of wetness. The sight was too much. She closed her eyes.

Morse’ hands ran up and down her inner thighs, before she felt a blunt fingertip trace her quivering folds. She gasped and clenched the bedclothes in both fists. Then she felt his tongue flick against her and almost flew off the bed. If he hadn’t laid a hand low across her belly, she just might have. 

Alice’s world shrank to the confines of the flat, specifically to Morse’ bed, where he had her spread out before him like a feast and him a starving man. He traced her opening with fingers and mouth, lips and tongue before one finger pressed against her entrance, easing inside of her, while his mouth hovered over her clitoris, flicking it with his tongue. 

The finger inside of her started to move, rising and falling with the music that played on in the background. Morse timed his thrusts, increasing their frequency with the lifting of Alice’s hips. When he added a second finger, she moaned and ground her hips against his hand. The rhythm she set started to lose consistency and he clamped his lips around her tight bud and sucked hard. 

Alice cried out and Morse felt a tightening around the digits sunk into her flesh. A warm rush of fluid lubricated his hand. As she settled, he brushed his lips against the quaking flesh of her inner thighs, easing his fingers from her and beginning a slow ascent up her body. He took his time moving upward before laying claim to her mouth with his once more. Alice sighed at the taste of herself on Morse’ mouth, then she pushed at his shoulders, levering him up and off of her.

Morse frowned, but stood up, his knees between hers. Alice pushed him back with two hands on his lean middle. She gripped the waistband of his boxers and dragged them down, the material catching on his erect member before they dropped to the ground. She followed them, so that she kneeled in front of him.  
Alice ran her hands up both of his legs, delighting in the springy course hair that covered them. Then she took his most male part in both of her hands, working the flesh up and down, eyeing the bulbous head, wet with Morse’ own essence. She looked up at him and saw that he watched everything she did, his eyes the brightest of blue. Still meeting his eyes, she lapped at the tip of him with the flat of her tongue. 

His eyelids fluttered and his adam’s apple bobbed.

Then she wrapped her lips around the top of him and sucked, tasting the salty sweet tanginess of him. Above her, his eyes closed and he thrust both hands through his hair. She flexed her jaw wide and bent lower, taking more and more of him into the wet confines of her mouth. She only did it a few times, before Morse groaned and she felt his hands grab the top of her shoulders to haul her upwards. He slammed his mouth down over hers, their tastes mingling. Then Morse spun them both around so that Alice faced the bed. They parted as he sat and pulled her knees up on either side of his thighs making her straddle him. He spread his knees, causing hers to widen and her sex to descend toward his. Alice let out a shuddering breathe as she felt herself be impaled slowly until she sat flush against him. 

The music swelled around them, insulating the two of them together, no longer separate but one entity, even if only for a short time. 

Alice arched her back and felt Morse slide from her feminine grasp. She lowered herself back down at the same time his hips thrust upwards, the two of them crashing together. They repeated their actions, his arms wrapping around her to hold her to him, as he buried his face in her heaving bosom, kissing and licking the parts of her he could reach. In return, she gripped his shoulders and plowed her fingers through his hair, loving the feel of it against her skin.

Morse thrust into her body again and again driving the air from her lungs in gasps of wild abandon. When she did take a breath, she breathed deep, deep enough to fuel the flames in her loins and push her over the edge into orgasmic free fall. Morse grasped her hips and groaned. Alice felt a hot blast of fluid spurt against her inner walls as Morse found his own release.

The music played on, but she knew their song had come to an end. She slid off of Morse’ lap, pulling her hem down before scraped the straps of her slip back up her shoulders to cover her breasts. 

Morse didn’t move for a minute, his hands coming up to cover his eyes. Then he picked up his boxers and pulled them back on. He faced her and held out his hand palm up. Alice looked from his hand to his face, unsure of what to do. Morse gave her no clues. Finally, she slipped her fingers into his waiting palm. 

Morse pulled her gently to her feet and stepped around her to pull back the covers of the bed, still holding her hand. 

Alice understood. The back of her eyes burned, and she was afraid her chin wobbled a bit, but she smiled. Morse couldn’t give her forever, but he could give her tonight. She told herself it was enough because it had to be. 

She slipped under the covers and lay back against the pillows. Morse joined her.

She stroked his jaw and stared into the bluest eyes she had ever known, content to do just that till morning come or Morpheus make her his.


End file.
